Need
by KalenCaelli
Summary: They tried to stay away. But once they started, it was impossible to stop.
1. Payback

**Title: Need**

 **Author: KalenCaelli**

 **Rating: Hard M**

 **Disclaimer: L &O:SVU is owned by people richer than me. If I did own it, I'd have Mariska and Kelli on retainer, a private island in the Caribbean, and a house full of puppies and kittens. Like literally full of them – from floor to ceiling. And there'd be YouTube videos of them doing cute things like sleeping and eating and chasing things and … okay my youngest shih tzu is giving me the stink eye.**

 **Author's Note: I was absolutely overwhelmed and thrilled with the support I received for** _ **Relapse**_ **. While I'm hard at work writing the sequel, the first chapter of which will be posted Sunday, I wanted to show my appreciation by also posting the first chapter in a companion story (side-arc) that will consist mostly of NSFW PWP pieces. So really it's an excuse for Olivia and Amanda to have sex as often as possible. If that's not your cup of tea then I'm not sure what's wrong with you. Might I suggest therapy? Chocolate? Puppies and kitties? Not all of the shorts will be in chronological order – I'll try to give an approximate time or episode when each one occurs so you can see where it would fall in the timeframe of** _ **Relapse**_ **, to give some perspective on the character's mindset at a moment in time.**

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 **OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO**

 **Chapter 1: Payback's a...**

 **(post: Spiraling Down)**

 **December 2011**

 **OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO**

She isn't supposed to be here.

She isn't supposed to be at _her_ door.

She isn't supposed to be doing _this_.

But since it happened a little under one month ago she's thought of little else.

They've worked together, and she's been professional, even cordial, but since that night, it's nearly been impossible to forget.

She is about to make the second biggest mistake of her life.

Lifting her hand, she hesitates only for a moment, finally bringing her knuckles against the door. Three times. Hard.

There is a pause, and the music that's playing inside is turned down. A pair of footsteps pad their way to the door. There is a pause, then the door opens.

"Olivia?"

Amanda Rollins stands in the middle of her doorway, clad in a red Atlanta Falcons t-shirt and a mismatching green pair of boxer shorts. Her long blonde hair is twisted up into a messy bun, strands of hair poking out in all directions. Her right hand is wrapped around a spoon and her feet are bare.

God, even dressed like this she's still breathtaking.

"Can I come in?" Olivia's stomach churns. Why she wants _this_ , needs _this_ , she is not sure. It just _is_.

And she fucking hates it.

Amanda steps back, tugging the door open, bewildered. Olivia steps inside, moving towards the second-hand couch in the center of the living room. The kitchen is small, and the TV in the corner is turned to the local sports channel.

Brown eyes dart around the room, taking in the cozy decor, the warm lamp light that bathes the apartment in a heated glow. There are a few pictures scattered around the room, mostly of what Olivia assumes is a younger Amanda with people she assumes are family based on similar characteristics — one older female, one younger. A couple appear to be academy photos.

"Do you want anything to drink?" Amanda closes the door, locking it and stepping around Olivia. "I've got cokes, tea, coffee," she pauses, "I've got some harder stuff too if you want it."

"What kind of harder stuff?" Olivia is walking towards the couch, standing in the living room, a little at a loss for how she wants this to play out. She stares at the couch to center herself, because it's easier than looking at Amanda this exact moment.

"Um, I've got some beers, some tequila, some whiskey," Amanda is in the kitchen opening and closing cabinets, pulling out a couple of glasses. Looking over her shoulder, cobalt eyes focus on their uninvited guest, studying Olivia with a little confusion and more than a little curiosity.

"Whatever you're having," Olivia mumbles, chewing on the inside of her cheek and casting a surreptitious glance over her shoulder. Amanda is pouring some of the tequila into a set of glasses, and when she finishes she tucks the bottle underneath her arm, and brings the glasses to the living room. The blonde passes one of the glasses to Olivia, puts the bottle on the end table, and raises her own glass with her right hand.

"Cheers," it is as much a question as a declaration. Olivia touches her glass to Amanda's, downing the liquor in one smooth motion, relishing in the way it burns going down her throat.

The drunker she is the easier it is to stomach — this need.

"So, um, I wasn't expecting to see you today," Amanda tilts her head towards the couch, following Olivia and taking a seat on the cushion next to her.

"Yeah, I was in the neighborhood and thought I'd stop by." It's not even a believable lie, and Olivia wants to kick herself for even uttering it.

Amanda startles, because she was not expecting this, and because she knows Olivia is lying. They may have been cordial, but they have definitely not gone out of their way to spend time with each other. The blonde sucks her bottom lip between her teeth, unscrewing the bottle of tequila and pouring herself another glass. She holds the bottle out to Olivia, who takes it, jolting at the touch of their fingers. For a moment Olivia wonders if it'd be terribly wrong to drink straight out of the bottle, but then decides she's being overly dramatic as she pours.

This is about sex. Not relationships or feelings. So there's no reason to get worked up.

All Olivia has to do is ignore the fact they work together and it's no different than any other one-night stand.

Two-night stand.

"So..." Amanda's eyebrows raise and she looks expectantly at Olivia, her expression cautiously neutral, a fact for which Olivia is extremely grateful. She'd hate to have to find a way to dispose of Amanda's body.

"Look, I was thinking about..." Olivia hesitates, heart racing. Why did she ever think this was a good idea? Olivia downs the tequila, immediately pouring another. She's wondering, for a moment, if there's a way to get out of this with some pride and some dignity intact, when Amanda's voice cuts through the growing fog with a clarity that's as startling as those crystal blue eyes.

"You know ... Liv ... I was thinking about those rules." Amanda is guarded, not that Olivia can blame her. Everything about their first encounter had been carefully controlled by the brunette. Amanda's choices had been relatively limited to going along with it or being thrown out. To her credit, she could do the same to Olivia. Or worse, she could humiliate Olivia.

She could. But she doesn't.

"The rules," Olivia laughs weakly, running a hand through her auburn tresses, looking away as if they weren't her rules. Her own goddamn rules. "I was thinking that, um, maybe we were a little hasty, with um, keeping it to just one encounter." As a general rule Olivia isn't all together convinced about the presence of God, but if there is one, and he's merciful, then she'll be swallowed by a sinkhole right now.

Amanda looks surprised for about two seconds before she neutralizes her expression, looking down at the empty glass in her hands.

"I... see," Amanda bites her lower lip, stealing a hopeful glance over at Olivia.

"Look this still doesn't mean anything." Olivia feels the need to clarify this, even though it should be painfully obvious from her demeanor, her eyes sliding over to where Amanda is now shifting uncomfortably on the sofa. "I'm not ... it's just sex."

"Right..." Amanda repeats, setting the empty glass on the ground. "Just sex. Just like before."

There is a long, pregnant pause, both women seemingly locked in their own silent contemplation of prolonging this bizarre relationship they share. Olivia knows that the ball is in Amanda's court, and for that reason alone she sits there silently, bracing herself for a decision either way.

Amanda slowly takes the empty glass from Olivia's hands, setting it on the floor next to her own, their eyes locking.

The blonde's eyes are startling clear — like a block of ice floating in a sea of blue.

Amanda leans forward, combing the fingers of her left hand though Olivia's thick, dark locks. The blonde pauses for a split second when her lips are hovering over Olivia's, breathing in the older woman's scent. The kiss that follows is gentle, tender, with enough passion to cause the hair on Olivia's forearms to stand on end.

Olivia moans into the kiss because this, _this_ , is what she has been missing — lips as silky as milk, the smell of strawberries and vanilla, and the taste, oh God the _taste_. Amanda's mouth is gently working against Olivia's, finding that easy synchronized rhythm they fell into before, only this time Amanda is the aggressor, shifting her weight onto her left leg and hand, nudging a knee between Olivia's thighs. Olivia allows herself to be guided onto her back because Amanda is so goddamn good at this, groaning as the younger woman's thigh pushes the seam of her jeans into her crotch.

Amanda's tongue is fervently exploring her mouth, tracing along her upper teeth, swirling around her own tongue. The blonde's hips are rocking against her thigh, and each time her hips grind against Olivia, the seam of Olivia's jeans press against her clit. Amanda's right hand skirts along the hem of Olivia's olive green t-shirt, brushing the back of her fingertips teasingly across the tanned stomach, feeling those tense muscles quiver involuntarily.

Olivia is already rising quickly towards a peak, bucking her hips against Amanda's thigh, hands grabbing Amanda's ass through her boxer shorts, squeezing the muscled flesh through the thin cotton, wishing to hell these irritating barriers are gone but unwilling to stop the frantic rhythm. A strangled noise escapes the younger woman's throat, Amanda slowing the motion of her hips, resisting Olivia's efforts to speed the pace back up.

Amanda pulls her lips away reluctantly, planting a kiss along Olivia's chin, her jawline, her earlobe. "Let's take this to the bedroom."

"Oh god," Olivia groans, bucking her hips against the younger woman's, brown eyes sliding open to lock gazes with the blonde. "You only good for one round, Rollins?" Grinding suggestively against that muscular thigh. "I wouldn't have pegged you for a one and done."

Cobalt eyes flash in challenge, the corner of Amanda's mouth quirking upwards. "Oh, I can go _all_ night. I was just trying to let you save face, old-timer." Her mouth slams against Olivia's once more, driving her thigh hard against Olivia's core. Her right hand reaches underneath Olivia's shirt and cups her breast through the lacy fabric of her bra, thumb flicking against the hardened nipple.

Olivia whimpers because the combined sensations are almost too much. With one last powerful thrust, the brunette tumbles over the edge, waves of pleasure flooding her body, her arms locking around her lover's back to center herself.

Amanda continues to pepper Olivia with kisses, brushing lips across a sweat-soaked forehead, peppering her closed eyelids, kissing her neck and then brushing the corner of her mouth.

Olivia feels satisfied, sated — knows that she could go home having scratched this particular itch, but even she's not a big enough bitch to let Amanda get her off without returning the favor.

That she'll thoroughly enjoy returning the favor is beside the point. And also something she's not prepared to acknowledge, even to herself.

"You want to go to the room now?" Olivia asks, glancing down at the blonde head currently buried into her neck. The bun is half undone, little flyaway strands peeking out in all directions. Amanda nods, exhaling and pushing herself up with a grunt. Olivia rolls to a seated position, taking Amanda's proffered hand when she stands.

"It's this way." Amanda jerks her head in the direction of the only other door, which is where Olivia would have guessed the bedroom was. Amanda opens the door, nodding to a half-made bed with a crimson duvet and cream-colored sheets. There's not much room in here for anything besides the bed and a small dresser made of light oak. The small closet is filled to near overflowing and past the bed is another door leading to a darkened room that can only be the bathroom.

They stop by the side of the bed, each woman looking at the other before undressing silently. Olivia peels off the t-shirt and her jeans, tennis shoes and socks, reaching behind her back to unhook her black lace bra and down to push off her matching panties. Amanda slips her Falcons shirt off, not having bothered with a bra since she was at home and it was her day off, pushing the boxers over generous hips.

With a weighty exhale, Amanda slowly turns and blue eyes slide up Olivia's body, taking in the sight of the naked brunette with obvious appreciation and more than a little arousal. Olivia stands there observing the blonde, studying the hardening coral points of Amanda's nipples as she backs towards the bed, her breath shaking when the blonde grabs her by the fingertips and pulls her closer.

That first press of skin on skin is every bit as intoxicating as Olivia remembers, both women releasing throaty moans as naked flesh joins. Olivia's weight is popped up on her forearms, the brunette taking some time to study the woman beneath her. There was not enough time for it the last time they did this, and for some inexplicable reason Olivia wants to commit the body below to memory. It's a parade of senses, the sight of the creamy skin beneath her, every line, every scar. The sound of Amanda's shaky inhale and exhale as her body thrums with desire. The feel of the silky skin, smooth contours broken only by hardened pebbles above and a willing warmth below. The honey-sweet smell of the younger woman's arousal, a potent aphrodisiac. The taste...

The taste...

Suddenly she wants more, much much more.

Dipping her head, Olivia captures Amanda's lips in a tender kiss. Angling her head, Olivia traces a tongue across the blonde's lower lip, slipping it inside of Amanda's mouth, tracing it along her teeth, twining around the younger woman's tongue.

Amanda releases a huff of air, capturing Olivia's tongue between her teeth and sucking on it, her nails scratching lightly along the bare flesh of the brunette's back and across the swell of her ass.

"You make me so fucking insane," Olivia murmurs, as a flood of moisture heads south, Olivia growing even wetter near her core. Pulling back slightly, Olivia drags her mouth along the angle of the blonde's jaw, her tongue tasting the sweat-soaked skin and capturing an earlobe between her teeth. Amanda groans, her hands gripping Olivia's ass.

Olivia's lips trail down the curve of her neck, pausing briefly to nip, then kiss Amanda's pulse point, feeling the flutter of her racing heart. Her free hand is massaging Amanda's breast, rolling the pebbled flesh between two of her fingers, silently wondering at the contrast between the hard and soft flesh. Her mouth follows the same path her fingers take, down Amanda's sternum, around the hardened nub standing proudly at attention, latching on with a powerful suction and flicking it repeatedly with her tongue.

"Oh god Liv," the blonde's back arches into her touch, fingers tangling in her hair, twisting almost painfully. Amanda's legs are wrapped around Olivia's body, and the older woman can feel Amanda's arousal coating her stomach, which only heightens her own excitement. Humming contentedly, Olivia slides a hand between her body and Amanda's, tangling through the short curls and dipping into the willing warmth, teasing past the sensitive bundle of nerves, circling the younger woman's entrance.

Amanda's legs tighten even more.

Slowly, ever-so-slowly, Olivia slides two fingers inside of Amanda, both women groaning at the intimate contact. The brunette holds her fingers still for a moment, relishing in the wet, tight heat, before pulling them out almost fully and thrusting them back in. In and out. Over and over. Olivia loses herself in the sensation of Amanda enveloping her, constricting her.

It doesn't take too much longer before Amanda tumbles over the edge with a lengthy cry, clutching the back of Olivia's head like a lifeline. The blonde's body convulses around her for a seeming eternity, finally relaxing, her legs falling bonelessly to the bed. Olivia's forehead is pressed against her sternum, sweat-soaked tendrils of hair plastered to her forehead.

"Fuck," Amanda mutters, shuddering when Olivia pulls her fingers out, triggering little aftershocks that roll through her body like waves. Olivia really, really wants to taste her fingers. Wants it with every fiber of her being. And she hates herself for wanting it, for having come here in the first place because she's not ready for _that_ , not yet.

But Olivia is here and while she's not sure if she can trust Amanda, Olivia is fairly certain she can deny anything the blonde could've insinuate. She hesitates, glancing towards the blonde, who is still lying there with her eyes closed. Olivia rolls to her back because that's where she's most comfortable, anywhere she doesn't have to see that look of silent wonder on Amanda's face and where she can ignore those gnawing feelings that this is one colossal mistake compounded.

"We need to set some parameters to these rendezvous, Rollins." She feels like a bitch for bringing this up right now but she can't afford to lose her head about this. Olivia Benson has spent countless years cultivating her reputation and is not about to lose it over a moon-eyed detective who's a great kisser with talented hands and a tongue...

 _Stop it, Benson._

Amanda's jaw tenses ever-so-slightly, but the young detective gives a curt nod, blue eyes blinking to focus on the popcorn ceiling.

"I think it would be a good idea if in the future we give each other a heads up if we're on the way over," Olivia says measuredly, "in case there's company."

"You mean like you did today?" Amanda drawls, arching one eyebrow dubiously.

Olivia blinks rapidly, surprised. She hadn't thought of Amanda having company given that she'd moved to New York a short time ago. But how long does it really take to start dating anyways?

"I should have checked with you ahead of time," Olivia concedes. She hadn't really thought of that, and feels a little bad for it. She bites her bottom lip. "Sorry."

"Don't be," Amanda intones, "I'm not."

Now it's her turn to clench her jaw.

"We still good for the rest of those rules?" Amanda drawls. "Or are you only good for for the one, Benson?"

 _That little..._

Olivia rolls over, pinning Amanda underneath her, grabbing the blonde's wrists, and pinning them above her head.

"Oh I can go all night."


	2. Taste

**Author's Note: I decided I needed a little diversion from the story – I'm up to 21 chapters now, and it just got really, really interesting. :) Never underestimate the power of the characters to take you in directions you never expected to go. Anyways... this little number takes place right after "Home Invasions", February 15, 2012.**

 **Reviews save the lives of puppies and kittens...and result in more of these interludes...**

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 **AAAAAAAAAAAAAAA**

 **Just A Taste...**

 **(Post-Home Invasions)**

 **February 2012**

 **AAAAAAAAAAAAAAA**

It's been one of _those_ nights.

She's been standing here for hours, pacing, fingers drumming restlessly against the sides of her thighs, trying to avoid turning on the TV.

There's a game on, her beloved Falcons are playing, and all she can think about is the spread, silently calculating the odds in her mind. Calling her bookie would be so easy.

Stormy blue eyes dart quickly to the phone, her finger hovering over the call button.

She's still new to this, this _'not gambling thing'_ , and she's already been to a meeting tonight. Two, in fact, though nothing seems to help.

Releasing a huff of air that ruffles her bangs, Amanda thumbs through her list of contacts, finally locating the one she wants and pressing the 'call' button.

She taps her foot impatiently, listening to the cellphone ring, both praying and dreading that the call will be answered.

It was humiliating having to face her captain, to admit that she had a gambling problem, even though Cragen was more than generous, allowing her to keep her shield. And though the thought of an IAB investigation terrifies her, the mere notion that she may have disappointed _her_ makes Amanda want to crawl under her covers and hide for the next hundred years.

 **"Benson."**

Amanda swallows thickly, garnering her courage. She'd promised to call first, to clear it first with Olivia before stopping by.

"Hey Liv," Amanda releases a shuddering sigh, twirling the end of her hair around her fingertip. "You got company tonight?"

There's a pause, and in that moment Amanda imagines a hundred scenarios. Maybe Olivia changed her mind when she found out about the her gambling addiction. Maybe she had rethought their little arrangement entirely. Maybe...

 **"No, I don't have company. Do you want to come over?"**

Her groin throbs at the invitation, finger tightening in her hair. God, her nipples are already hard at the mere thought of seeing Olivia this evening.

"Be there in thirty."

Amanda punches the 'end' button and grabs her running shoes. Her stomach still pulls a little when she bends down to tie them — the bruising is almost gone now, the mottled gold and green just barely visible across her lower right side. It could have been a lot worse — her bookie could have broken her legs.

Then again, if she doesn't work, he doesn't get paid.

Amanda finishes tying her laces, running a hand through her hair and checking herself quickly in the mirror to make sure she's presentable. The button down peach shirt and dark denim fits her toned body well and hugs her curves in all the right places. Satisfied with her appearance, Amanda grabs her leather jacket and heads for the door.

She has the drive to Olivia's memorized, and before long she is pulling into an empty parking spot, hands shoved deep in her pockets to ward against the chilly February air. There are few cars on the street at this time, and Amanda hustles across to the other side, pressing the call button for Olivia's apartment.

The buzzer sounds immediately.

Amanda takes the steps to Olivia's fourth floor apartment, wanting to burn off some of this pent-up energy so as not to appear too needy when she meets Benson.

Even if all she wants to do is throw her against the wall and fuck her brains out.

She finally makes it to the door, but before she knocks it opens and Amanda steps inside. When her cobalt eyes lock onto Olivia, Amanda freezes, all of the moisture in her body rushing to points south.

Olivia Benson is wearing a kimono-length navy blue silk robe that exposes miles and miles of tanned olive skin and long, well-defined legs. Her chestnut hair is curled, the edges just skirting past her shoulders.

"Fuck," Amanda mutters, because really that's the only word she can think of that best describes the situation. She wonders how Liv would react if she bent her over right there and...

"I think that's the point, Amanda," Olivia seems highly amused by the situation, dark eyes skimming over Amanda's body. "But once again I think you're wearing entirely too many clothes." She saunters towards the blonde, blue eyes mesmerized by the sway of her hips. Olivia's lips brush against her earlobe, Amanda drawing a quick intake of air at the soft caress of her skin as Olivia locks the door. "Let's do something about that, shall we?"

 _Oh. My. God._

Olivia's hands push the brown leather jacket, and her fingers skim along the hem of Amanda's jeans, long dexterous fingers untucking her shirt. The pads of her fingers trace along quivering stomach muscles, spreading along her sides, lifting Amanda's shirt over her head, leaving the blonde clad in only a black satin bra from the waist up, hardened points of her nipples straining against the fabric.

What football game? This is far more entertaining.

Olivia draws flush against the blonde and presses a kiss along the curve of her bare left shoulder. Then she reaches up and draws the strap down an exposed, creamy shoulder. Her lips follow the trail up the long, lean lines of her neck, teeth, tongue, and lips falling into an easy rhythm as she reaches Amanda's pulsing carotid, flicking a tongue over that spot, drawing an involuntary moan from the blonde. Amanda's whole body starts to sway, a warm tingle starting in her toes that has everything to do with the sensations Olivia is eliciting.

"Liv," Invoking her name like a prayer, gasping as those full pink lips suckle the other side of her neck, pulling the other strap down, strong arms sliding to her back and unhooking her bra. Amanda whimpers when Olivia steps back, lips breaking their suction to allow the fabric to fall to her feet, her whimper becoming a lone whine at the lack of contact. Fingernails trace up her stomach, skirting along the underside of her breasts, finally cupping those pale globes, squeezing them gently, thumbs tracing around the coral colored tips before flicking the puckered nipples.

Liv is an absolute goddess.

Amanda's breath is coming in ragged pants, so painfully aroused that it wouldn't take much more from Olivia to trigger a release. And, as if sensing this crucial fact, Olivia draws away, amused chocolate eyes studying her, hands trailing down the length of Amanda's arms and grasping her gently by the hands.

"Come with me," there's a hint of command in that dulcet tone that sends an aroused shudder through her body, Amanda readily complying as she follows the brunette into her bedroom. It is neat, clean, unlike the whirlwind that is Amanda's bedroom at the moment, a problem that's inevitable when you cram a Georgia-sized apartment into a New York-sized loft.

"Lay down," Olivia's lips brush her ear, and this time she tangles her fingers through those impossibly soft locks when the brunette's tongue trails along its outer shell.

"You gonna let me see what's under the robe or keep me guessing all night?" Amanda murmurs, fingers impatiently tugging at the silk belt.

"I think you know what's under the robe," Olivia's hands lock around Amanda's wrists. "The sooner you lay down, the sooner you behave, the sooner you get to play." Keeping her wrists tightly locked, Olivia guides Amanda to the bed, the blonde eagerly complying.

"Get in the center," Olivia orders, releasing the blonde's wrists, stepping back in case Amanda makes another attempt to grab at the sash.

And she sorely wants to, even though Olivia is right — she _does_ know what's under the robe. But she also doesn't want Liv to throw her out — finishing herself off isn't nearly as satisfying as allowing Olivia to do it for her.

So she complies, crawling half-dressed into the middle of the bed, blue eyes following the brunette, who glides to the foot of the bed. Amanda's nose flares with arousal when Olivia rests a knee on the bed, that short silk robe riding even higher up those tanned thighs.

Olivia pries off Amanda's sneakers and socks, bringing the other knee up as well as she reaches for the button on Amanda's jeans. Amanda grabs the duvet, clenching it between tight fists, raising her hips when Olivia tugs the offending garments down her legs, dropping them at the foot of the bed, dark eyes skimming hungrily across the creamy skin.

Olivia reaches down to her sash, tugs at the length until her robe falls open, offering just the barest hint of tanned flesh. One simple roll of her shoulders and Olivia's fully nude body joins Amanda's, the dark nipples tightening in the slightly chilled air. The brunette leans down, spreading Amanda's legs, pressing a soft, heart-stopping kiss to the inside of her left knee.

 _Oh God..._

"This okay?" Olivia murmurs, repeating the action on her right knee, then a little higher, on the soft flesh of her inner thigh.

"More...than..." Amanda's wetter than she's ever been in her entire life, whimpering as those delectable lips nibble, kiss, and suck their way up, higher...and higher...

...halting just shy of her core.

Amanda is frozen, every muscle in her body taut in anticipation, breath coming in shallow bursts. Liv's mouth is so close she can feel the heat, the humidity from her breath. The brunette mutters something along the lines of "If you tell anyone about this I'll kill you" but Amanda doesn't even have time to process it because in the next moment Olivia's tongue is dragging its way through her folds from her opening clear past her clit.

Amanda Rollins sees stars.

"Oh my god," Olivia murmurs, dipping her head back down to repeat the action before circling her tongue around Amanda's entrance, dipping it inside slightly, lapping at the moisture she finds there. Amanda's thighs fall even further apart, moaning loudly, fingers of her right hand tangling in Olivia's brown locks.

Olivia's teeth nibble up her outer folds, licking, kissing, sucking at the tender flesh. The brunette's tongue circles around her inner folds, teasing the nub from its protective hood.

"Ahhh Livvvvv," Amanda's hips shoot off the bed, her fingers tightening in Olivia's hair so much that her knuckles turn white, at the very moment the brunette's lips wrap around her clitoris. Amanda's eyes roll in the back of her head, her hips thrusting erratically until Olivia pins them down, tongue lathing the sensitive flesh, then flicking it repeatedly.

Olivia slips her fingers inside Amanda, the warm, willing warmth sucking the digits in. She curls her fingers, searching for that one spot that she knows will tip the blonde over the edge.

All of the sensations, Olivia's mouth, her fingers, it's just enough to tip Amanda over the edge, her body seizing as the pleasure rolls over her in waves. A string of unintelligible phrases escape from her mouth, mind going blissfully, indescribably blank.

It takes a seeming eternity for the orgasm to taper off, and Olivia never stops her motions until Amanda is spent. The brunette rests the side of her cheek against Amanda's trembling thigh, closing her eyes.

"Fuck." It seems inadequate to describe what just happened. But she literally has no other words for what might just have been the greatest orgasm of her life. Olivia Benson just screwed them out of her head.

Both women releasing nervous laughter, Olivia plants a kiss on the tender inner skin of Amanda's inner thigh before crawling up Amanda's sweat-slicked body. Unfocused cobalt orbs blink as the brunette's eyes meet her own, Olivia's mouth pressing against hers. Amanda groans as she tastes herself on Olivia's lips, slipping her arms around the brunette's back, her hands caressing the soft olive skin.

Olivia's tongue is exploring her mouth, and Amanda can't help but smile, breaking the kiss to murmur, "where'd that come from?"

"Don't make this awkward, Rollins," Olivia's eyes flash irritatedly, pulling back with a frown.

Shit, not how she wanted this evening to go.

"Sorry," Amanda mumbles, acutely aware of her place in the sphere of Olivia Benson. She glances away, missing the momentary drop of the brunette's guard, the slight vulnerability and hesitation in her face. Swallowing, she lifts her eyes to meet Olivia's. "Can we get back to the kissing part, because that was kind of nice?" Trying to break this awkward tension between the two of them.

Olivia purses her lips together, studying her silently for a minute, finally giving her a minute nod that Amanda interprets as permission to proceed forward. The blonde leans in, tasting herself on Olivia's lips, knowing instinctively that she wants to reciprocate.

And she wants it _now_.

Hooking a leg around the older woman, she rolls Olivia onto her back, never breaking contact with the older woman's lips. She kisses along her jawline, knowing just where to kiss the brunette to elicit the greatest response, dipping her head and latching onto her carotid, licking and nipping the pulsing skin, her hands trailing up and down Olivia's sides.

Olivia moans, her back arching into Amanda's touch, shifting to try to direct her to where she wants her, but the blonde already knows the answer to that, and she's not going to grant it so readily. Olivia made her writhe in waiting for the contact and Amanda is determined that two can play that game.

The blonde nibbles along the curve of a shoulder, trailing a tongue along a prominent collarbone. Her hands reach up to cup Olivia's breasts, the pads of her thumbs teasing the cocoa nipples, kneading them with just the right pressure to cause the brunette's back to arch off the mattress.

"God, Amanda," Olivia's never been terribly vocal, at least not with Amanda, but the blonde has learned over the past half-dozen or so of these trysts to read Olivia's body language, and right now she knows that Liv is very, very aroused.

Her tongue traces a path down her sternum, detouring to circle one nipple, latching on it powerfully and sucking hard and fast, drawing a heady moan from the other woman. Olivia's fingers thread through her hair, somehow pulling her closer and pushing her away simultaneously. The brunette's arousal is palpable enough that she can smell it in the air, the heady aroma drawing Amanda downwards, the younger woman trailing kisses down the soft contours of Olivia's belly.

Olivia's breathing is starting to grow ragged when Amanda dips a tongue in belly button, resting a cheek against the satiny smooth skin of her lower abdomen, pausing just shy of her ultimate goal.

She's never done this before, gone down on another woman, but somehow she knows that this is something she's meant to do for Olivia Benson.

"Amanda," Olivia's voice is half whisper, half plea, and those blue eyes dart up to lock on Olivia's own mocha gaze. Amanda smiles, nuzzling the soft curls just above her goal, shifting her body so that it rests between Olivia's open thighs. Gradually, the brunette's legs fall wider, Amanda lowering her tongue to slip between her need-drenched folds.

"Oh my God," Olivia's hips arch off the bed, Amanda slipping her arms underneath her legs to provide some stability, repeating her earlier action.

 _Oh my God,_ Amanda echoes silently.

Olivia tastes absolutely exquisite, the scent of her arousal a powerful aphrodisiac. Amanda begins to lick, kiss, and suck her way around Olivia's core, dipping her tongue inside of her to drink deeply of her, sliding through need drenched folds to circle her clit, backing away to nibble at her outer labia. All the while Amanda tries to commit this to memory, reading Olivia's verbal and nonverbal cues and relying on her own recall to extrapolate what Olivia likes.

There's more moisture now, Olivia's hips are moving more erratically. The brunette has a death lock on the back of Amanda's head, her moans of pleasure steadily rising in pitch and tempo when Amanda's lips latch onto her protruding nub. She lathes it with her tongue, just like Olivia did to her, the brunette's hands grabbing the back of her head to hold her there while her body erupts with excitement.

Wordless cries fall steadily from Olivia's mouth as the waves of pleasure move through her body like a tsunami, Amanda continuing her ministrations until her lover is spent. Pressing a kiss to one quivering thigh, she lowers her head to catch breath, before kissing Olivia's outer labia once more.

Each time they do this, she never knows if it'll be the last. So she takes a moment to breathe deeply, to remember, before kissing her way up Olivia's midline. The brunette is looking away when Amanda reaches her face, the blonde rolling to her back beside Olivia, giving the older woman a chance to collect herself.

In a few moments, Amanda will make some excuse as to why she needs to leave, and Olivia will wordlessly nod and accept the excuse, even though it's a lie and they both know it. That is the agreement. That is their arrangement.

But when Amanda leaves, she'll miss the fact that those brown eyes linger a little longer than usual. And Olivia will miss the barest of smiles that ghosts those pale pink lips.

And both women will miss the shifting dynamic taking place beneath their very noses.


	3. Scars

**Author's Note: It was hard for me to give an exact date on this because two months supposedly pass between episodes 1 & 2 of season 15, so I labeled this 6 months after Olivia gets rescued from Lewis. This little short is one that I've been wanting to write for awhile, and some recent downtime meant that I could get it written in a relatively short sitting. I always saw this as perhaps a little turning point for the girls, a time when things didn't always go according to script. This happens before the events of I'll Stand By You, during the time frame of the original relapse story (which goes well into the later seasons), sometime between the flashbacks and flash-forwards.**

* * *

 **AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA**

 **Scars**

 **(Six Months After Surrender Benson)**

 **AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA**

"You want me to what?"

She heard wrong. Surely she heard wrong.

They are sitting on her couch, staring at each other. Or were staring at each other. Murky brown eyes shift away, Olivia's hands wringing uncomfortably — like it had taken the brunette all her courage just to come over here, to make herself vulnerable, to let it be known that she is ready to start living, to reclaim the life that _he_ stole.

But she is afraid, Amanda sees this, and the blonde reaches out cautiously, closing her hands over Olivia's fidgeting fingers, the older woman jumping slightly, brown eyes darting to the enclosed digits.

Amanda has some serious reservations about doing as Olivia asks, knowing that the woman suffers from serious PTSD as a result of her time with Lewis, that she has scars from the torture she suffered, that she was assaulted sexually, forced to witness things Amanda can't even begin to fathom, all of which could make this a seriously bad idea.

"What about Brian?" She has to ask, even as she hates to ask, feeling the sharp pangs of guilt when Olivia's shoulders stiffen, the brunette clenching her jaw.

"I..." Olivia clamps her jaw shut, closing her eyes and regulating her breathing. Without forethought Amanda squeezes Olivia's hands, encouraging her to give voice to the demons that haunt her. "He's a guy," she says finally, haltingly. "I'm not sure I can..." her voice trails off.

"Have sex with him again?" Amanda inquires softly, her heart breaking at the implications of that which she knows so well.

Olivia nods, unfocused mahogany orbs staring at some distant point on the ground. "There are... scars." Her voice trails off, as if embarrassed by this revelation. As if Amanda doesn't know, doesn't feel partly responsible. Lewis was her collar, after all. If it hadn't been for her, none of this would have happened to Liv.

Amanda frowns when she hears this. "That doesn't matter, Liv," cocking her head to the side. "Are you worried Cassidy won't find your body attractive because of a few scars?" Not understanding how Olivia thinks a few scars would render her unattractive. Olivia is one of the most stunningly beautiful women Amanda's ever met. Nothing in the world could ever change this.

"More than a few," Olivia mutters, lifting her eyes to meet Amanda's, shoulders squared in irritation. "So will you do it or not?"

Amanda swallows — truth be told she is sorely tempted by Olivia's offer. She's missed their trysts, wondered if they'd ever have sex again with everything Olivia went through. Maybe this proposition is Olivia's way of recapturing what they'd lost. Still...

"Are you certain?" Amanda purses her lips. The brunette nods curtly, fists clenched loosely at her sides.

"Okay," Amanda nods, grabbing Olivia's hands reassuringly, her head dipping, blue eyes seeking out the older woman's gaze. "But promise me that you'll stop me if anything I do is uncomfortable."

Olivia nods, and Amanda pushes to her feet, tugging lightly at the brunette's hands, pulling Olivia along with her. The women move into Amanda's bedroom, making their way to the foot of the bed, and Amanda stops, turning towards the older woman, hesitation in her eyes.

Olivia steps up to the bed quietly, her back now turned towards Amanda, unbuttoning her own shirt with stubborn determination. Amanda watches her for a minute, then pulls off her own T-shirt, a freebie from a run she did in Atlanta, unhooking her nude-colored bra, kicking off her grey yoga pants.

Olivia continues to undress herself, pushing her own jeans down forcefully, letting her purple blouse fall, and it's only just barely that Amanda's able to keep herself from gasping at the sight of Olivia's scar-riddled back, barely covered by her own black bra.

One of William Lewis' favorite forms of torture was to burn his victims, and he'd obviously taken great pleasure in utilizing whatever he had on hand to mark Olivia's body.

Scattered across the brunette's back were a dozen or more small, round circles that could only be cigarette burns, one of his favorite implements of torture. Beside those scars ran others, varying shapes spread over her upper and lower back from a wire coat hanger. Triangles, misshapen circles, squares...

...and across her right shoulder, a very distinctive mark.

The crude letters 'WL'.

The bastard fucking branded her.

Amanda wonders if she can figure out a way to have him killed.

She realizes that Olivia is standing there at the side of her bed, hands clenched tightly into fists, shoulders tensed, as if bracing herself for an onslaught of questions. So slowly, Amanda steps up behind her, cautiously slipping an arm around Olivia's waist, pressing a long, slow kiss against the brunette's shoulder.

"I still think you're beautiful, Liv." Amanda murmurs, kissing across one shoulder, lowering the bra strap without regards to what lies beneath it, continuing across the back of her neck, and down the other shoulder, her lips working gently against the other woman's olive skin. She lowers the other bra strap, hands reaching up to unhook the brunette's bra.

Olivia reaches to her front, pinning the undergarment into place, and Amanda continues to kiss her back, her neck, her shoulders, her arms slid loosely around the brunette's waist.

Gradually, Olivia's tense shoulders begin to relax, the brunette's shallow respirations beginning to deepen. Inhaling deeply, as if preparing herself for what's to come, Olivia releases her hands, letting the bra fall to the ground. She pushes her underwear down without much preamble. Olivia reaches for the edge of the duvet, tugging it back, letting Amanda's arm fall away and climbing into bed.

Amanda crawls into her bed behind Olivia, blue eyes leveled on the brunette's back, the older woman turned towards the wall, breath quickening, as if she were trying to build up the courage to turn over.

"Amanda, can you do me a favor?" Olivia's voice is hesitant, a little shaky.

"Anything." And she means it, knowing she's in so deep that if Olivia asked her to jump off the rooftop she'd do it in a heartbeat.

"Close your eyes for just a moment."

Amanda's eyelids slip shut, waiting. After a couple of seconds, she feels Olivia's hand tug gently at her own, pulling at her, and after a moment Amanda realizes exactly what it is Olivia wants, rolling over to straddle the woman, bent knees on either side of her hips.

Olivia moves Amanda's right hand to cover her left breast, Amanda moaning softly at the feel of the pebbled flesh beneath her fingertips. She brushes her thumb across that nipple, hearing Olivia's soft moan, relieved that the brunette seems to be doing alright. Since her eyes are closed, she's can only guess as to Olivia's state of mind, is dependent on Olivia to tell her what she wants.

"You can open your eyes now," Olivia's voice is extremely timid, so out of character from anything she's ever heard before from the older woman's mouth, that at first Amanda just sits there, eyes closed, in silence.

"Amanda," Olivia urges, and the younger woman does as bid.

When she does, Olivia's eyes are closed, and Amanda's glad for that, because the stark horror of the brutality inflicted upon her body renders Amanda mute.

There are at least two dozen cigarette burns scattered across the brunette's chest, across her breasts, right up to her nipples. More marks from a wire hangar crisscross her stomach, but it's the mark near her left shoulder that really upsets her.

Lewis used Olivia's own badge to brand her.

That motherfucking son of a ...

Amanda blinks back tears, knowing that she cannot lose it, not now. Later, after Olivia goes home, she can have the luxury of shedding tears. Right now, Olivia needs her strength.

Taking a couple of deep breaths, Amanda centers herself, letting herself see the woman under the tangled mess of scars, the woman she's only recently begun to acknowledge she's falling for.

That's when the answer hits her.

"Olivia, open your eyes."

Her bottom lip catches between her teeth, the brunette opening her eyes, as if dreading what she's going to find when she meets Amanda's gaze.

"Olivia Benson, you are absolutely stunning," Amanda's right hand is still on her breast, but her other hand is resting next to Olivia's shoulder, watching those wide brown eyes glisten with tears.

Olivia's fingers reach up, their backs trailing across Amanda's cheekbone, cupping the back of her head, entwining with her hair and pulling her head down for a tender kiss. Both women's heads angle to the side, lips parting, tongue's tangling, breaths quickening.

Amanda focuses on this kiss, knowing that right now Olivia wants to feel attractive, wants to feel desireable, and she pours every bit of her feeling and her emotion into this kiss.

Besides, she most definitely desires Olivia.

Amanda's hand begins to knead gently at Olivia's left breast, a tad more gently than she normally would, her own arousal growing quickly. She's careful, cautious not to do anything that could be considered rough or that would cause Olivia discomfort in any way.

It has been _so_ long.

Amanda lowers her body onto Olivia's, shifting her weight to the side, bringing a muscled thigh between the brunette's legs, moaning when she feels Olivia's arousal coating her leg, knowing the feeling is mutual.

"God, Amanda, you're so wet," Olivia kisses along her jaw to her neck, mouth latching onto her shoulder and sucking hard, then releasing the area with a loud pop. The brunette flexes her thigh muscle, angling her hips to thrust against the blonde, forcing Amanda's eyes to roll back.

She's almost forgotten how good _this_ feels.

Amanda kisses down Olivia's jawline, latching onto the hollow of her throat, groaning when Olivia's hands, which had been on her back, reach up to comb through her silken tresses.

"Amanda," Olivia moans, warm cocoa eyes grazing Amanda's own when the blonde finally pulls back. "Please, I need..."

Amanda slips a slender digit inside the brunette, both women gasping at the way Olivia's body swallows it up. She leaves her hand very still, kissing her way across Olivia's upper chest. Whenever she comes across a scar, she kisses it, refusing to shy away from any mark, determined to make Olivia believe again in the beauty of her own body.

Olivia starts to move her hips against Amanda's, the blonde's finger thrusting in a slow, sensual rhythm. Amanda's mouth moves lower, latching onto Olivia's left nipple, capturing the hardened flesh between her lips and suckling. Cautiously, Amanda teases Olivia's entrance with a second finger, the brunette finishing the action, reaching down with a shaky hand and pushing both digits inside.

Olivia cries out in pleasure, her hands gliding over the sweat-soaked skin of Amanda's back. Amanda moans, releasing Olivia's nipple with a pop and nibbling her way to the other one, drawing the hardened nub between her lips. Her thumb sweeps over Olivia's clit, the older woman bucking against her with the jolt of ecstasy.

Amanda continues to thrust inside of the brunette, curling her fingers to find Olivia's g-spot, making sure to hit it with every surge forward. Her thumb sweeps over the hardened nub in circles, the brunette growing wetter with each thrust.

There's a momentary pause, then Olivia's muscles are constricting around her fingers, the brunette's body arching off the bed, crying out in release. Amanda continues to thrust her fingers into her lover, taking great care not to hurt her. Both women ride the wave for a small eternity, until Olivia's spasming stops. When it does, and Olivia's orgasm has finished, Amanda glances up, frowning when she sees the brunette covering her eyes with her arm, jaw muscles clenching.

Slowly, Amanda eases her fingers out, licking the evidence of Olivia's pleasure from her fingers. Amanda slides up the bed, blue eyes leveled in concern at the older woman.

"Olivia, are you alright?" It is a stupid question, as Olivia is most definitely not okay. Guilt begins to tug at Amanda's insides, thinking that it is too soon for Olivia to engage in sexual activity.

And feeling another pang of guilt at being the reason for all of this in the first place.

"He didn't show." The brunette's voice is scarcely more than a whisper, Amanda turning on her side, head propped up on her elbows, eyebrows furrowed in confusion.

"What do you mean, honey?" Amanda reaches out, trailing a finger along Olivia's stomach, hoping the gesture is somewhat comforting. This is also new. Talking after sex. Normally they just get dressed silently.

Well okay, they say goodbye.

Most of the time.

"I..." Olivia inhales deeply. "I was worried that I would be thinking about..." she can't say his name. Won't say his name.

Amanda nods, understanding dawning. It was the same for her after Patton. "I am glad. He isn't worthy of your thoughts."

Though Amanda is still going to look into having him shanked.

Amanda swallows, laying on her back and tentatively reaching for Olivia, bracing for rejection. When Amanda's arm touches Olivia's shoulder, the brunette stiffens. This is not something they do.

Then, slowly her body relaxes, and she rolls over, nesting her head in the crook of Amanda's arm, slipping an arm around the blonde's stomach.

And just like that, she's cuddling with Olivia Benson.

This is also not something that they do.

But maybe, just maybe, the rules are changing.


	4. Redemption

**Author's Note: I was hitting kind of a mental block on the sequel, and was hoping to bust it open by shifting gears to an old standby. This is part drama, part smut. Of course set in the Relapse Universe - so Noah, Jessie, and Frannie aren't around...yet. Read that first if you haven't read it so you can figure out where it's set. On the upside, I finally finished the research for my next story. Now I've just gotta figure out where I'm going with the plot and then it's time to write.**

* * *

 **OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO**

 **Redemption**

 **(Post Beast's Obsession)**

 **OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO**

She isn't sure what she is expecting.

But she definitely isn't expecting _this_.

Amanda Rollins is at her door, hesitantly staring up at her with those wide blue eyes, hands shoved deep into the pockets of her dark blue denim jeans, wearing a white peasant-style blouse with a tiny floral pattern. Her blonde hair is wavy — au naturel— as Amanda once told Nick.

Olivia's smile fades.

"Rollins, I wasn't expecting to see you this evening." Olivia doesn't invite her in, leaning against her doorway and briefly dragging her eyes away from Amanda's perfectly finished makeup and hair, the younger woman smelling vaguely of perfume and freshly done laundry. Olivia's own light grey lounge pants and royal blue t-shirt seem almost paltry in comparison, but then again she is not the one out an about at oh... brown eyes flash briefly to the clock above her mantle ... nine-thirty on a Tuesday evening. "What can I do for you?"

She convinces herself it can't be sex, because she still recalls throwing Amanda out the last time she tried to initiate _that_ , not long after she was suckered into going undercover by Declan Murphy. A couple of weeks after she tried to cover up the rape of an innocent woman. Even if Amanda was undercover, the whole thing still stinks and Olivia is not happy with the way things went down. So no, it can't possibly be _that_ , because between the _Are you fucking kidding me_ and the _Get the fuck out of my apartment building_ she's pretty certain even Amanda got a clue she wasn't welcome over anymore.

Even though that now, with Brian gone and Lewis dead, a weight has been lifted off her shoulders; there is a certain freedom she has, a freedom to sleep with whoever she wants without guilt or remorse. A freedom she was lacking when she was with Brian, because every time she slept with Amanda there was a sense of underlying guilt. Guilt because deep inside she knew it was still cheating.

Not that she had to worry about _that_ after William Lewis. Brian was never good at dealing with _victims_.

"Is this a bad time?" Amanda is shifting nervously from foot to foot, lower lip caught between her upper and lower teeth, sweaty palms brushing against the sides of her pants.

Olivia wants to say yes, to close the door on her face. But there's something about Amanda...

Maybe it's the forlorn expression on her face as she digs the toe of her black clog into the ground.

Maybe it's the utter dejection in those blue eyes. Eyes that are leveled on the carpet in front of her apartment.

Whatever it is, it gives Olivia pause. Makes her start second guessing herself.

Olivia isn't sure that's a good thing or bad thing.

"Depends on what you want," Olivia counters, crossing her arms in front of her body. She definitely isn't going to make this easy for Amanda – the blonde woman deserves every ounce of her wrath.

"I..." the blonde's voice trails off, eyes flashing to Olivia's before darting down again, embarrassment flushing her cheeks a deep scarlet as she mutters quickly underneath her breath,"Ijustwannatryandmakeamends."

Silence reigns in the hallway, Olivia's mind trying to process Amanda's admission and assess the exact tenor of her words. For a moment, she thinks Amanda is propositioning her, even though the woman's body language and demeanor suggest anything but. Her mind races through alternate possibilities, before one simple explanation pops into her mind that should have been painfully obvious.

Gamblers Anonymous. The twelve steps.

"Make... amends..." Olivia repeats, slowly, ensuring that she has heard Amanda right even though she is fairly certain she heard Amanda perfectly clear, cocoa brown eyes searching Amanda's for any signs that the younger woman is lying about her intentions.

Wondering if she should even let herself go _there_ , after all they have been through.

Pursing her lips, Olivia swallows thickly, taking a step back and nudging her door open, bathing the hallway in a warm glow. Amanda remains frozen in the corridor, almost as if she expected the door to be slammed in her face again.

"Come in."

Amanda takes a tentative step inside, and then another, her hands shoved deep inside her pockets. Olivia does her best to ignore the way the younger woman's jeans hug her body. She does not want to be thinking about that. Not now.

But God, when she remembers the way Amanda's ass looks _out_ of those jeans...

No. She can't go there. Not now.

"Do you want something to drink?" Olivia turns towards her sofa because it's safer than thinking what's under those clothes, turning to her half-finished glass of wine standing next to her nearly empty bottle. She takes a seat at the far end, tucking her feet beneath her, resting her elbow on the low back and staring expectantly at the blonde detective.

"Um, no," Amanda says quickly, a little too quickly, moving to the side of the couch and glancing hesitantly between it and Olivia before taking a seat on the opposite end, rubbing sweaty palms up and down her thighs.

"Rollins, relax," Olivia takes a sip of her red wine, dark eyes skimming over her form. "What is it you wanted to say?"

"How have _you_ been doing?"

The question comes as a shock, jolting Olivia out of her comfort zone and a chaotic mass of tumbling emotions and haunting memories.

"I- um I-" Olivia hates that Amanda does this to her, makes her tongue feel like it's stuck to the roof of her mouth and her brain feel like it's in the middle of a tennis tournament.

"I'm fine," she lies, because she most definitely is not. She's not sure what she was expecting, with Lewis' death. She still looks over her shoulders when she walks alone at night. Still wakes up in a cold sweat, pulse pounding, sheets fisted in her hands, convinced of the smell of burning flesh and singed hair. She still twitches at the sound of a hammer being cocked, the smell of gunpowder and smoke, feeling the press of the revolver against her temple. The way the spray of the shower conjures up the way Lewis' blood sprayed across her face.

She can still feel his hands on her body, harsh breath panting in her ear as he pressed himself against her, one palm roughly kneading her breast while the other tugs at her belt buckle.

"Liv?"

Brown eyes blink rapidly, the brunette shaking her head slightly to clear it. "I'm fine," Olivia repeats, sipping at the wine, frowning when crystal blue eyes dart to the nearly empty bottle before quickly looking away, feeling a gnawing irritation at the insinuation. She is _not_ her mother — and anyone who tries to imply that she is can go to hell. She's about to open her mouth and say something to that effect when Amanda raises her hands in surrender.

"I wasn't trying to imply you have a drinking problem, Liv." The words rush quickly from Amanda's mouth before Olivia's harsh rebuke can slip out of her mouth. Olivia presses her lips together. I was just..." Amanda scrubs her hands over her face. "Fuck I'm just making everything worse."

Olivia sighs, wearily, resting her forehead in the cradle between her thumb and index fingers. "Why are you really here, Amanda?"

Amanda sighs, the younger woman's eyes dropping to the wooden floor boards, clasped hands dropping between her knees. "I-" the detective hesitates, closing her eyes and taking a deep breath before continuing, "I need to apologize for the Nadari case." Those cobalt blue eyes glaze over with unshed tears. "And for the way I treated you during Lena's trial. I didn't mean to say those things. And I definitely didn't want Marcelo's wife to get raped. I never would have gotten involved if I knew that was going to happen."

Amanda wraps her arms around her stomach, her torso rocking slowly. Her head turns, eyes watering. "I fought Declan tooth and nail to end the operation after they had me take the gun from evidence. I-" a tear finally escapes down Amanda's cheek. "I didn't know he was going to save my shield. I didn't ask him to do that."

Olivia chews the inside of her lower lip, taking a sip of her wine and wrapping her mind around the words, carefully. "Amanda, an innocent woman was raped, then intimidated by the people you were working for. Evidence was tampered with." She wants to be angry, she really does. But staring at the woman across from her, watching the tears roll down Amanda's cheeks, Olivia can't help but feel a little sorry for her.

"I know I fucked up." Amanda sniffs, scrubbing her sleeve across her nose and wiping the tears from her eyes before turning them away from Olivia's searing gaze. "Between Lena and my sister and being arrested I just..." Amanda shrugs her shoulders. "I know there's no good excuse but I-" the blonde's lip quivers, "it was all just too much. So I started gambling again - it was the only way to forget."

"Which is why you should have asked for help, Amanda," Olivia inches closer to the blonde, setting her glass down on the coffee table. "Talked to a therapist, found a support group, talked to your partner. Anything is better than what you did."

"I know." Amanda doesn't even bother to wipe the tears away this time. "I will never, ever, forgive myself for that, or for what I said to you," the younger woman bites her lower lip. "I'm sorry I snapped at you when you suggested I go to therapy. I know you were just trying to help."

Olivia shakes her head, resting her elbow again on the back of the couch and resting her head on her palm. "Why, exactly, did you say that?" The memory still stings — Amanda's implication that Olivia has to pay someone to listen to her problems.

Amanda sniffs, wiping her eyes against her forearm. "The whole case was just getting to me, Liv. I was too close. I should have stepped back and when I found out Nick was spying on me I..." red-rimmed eyes focus on Olivia's own. "I made a mistake. I know I fucked that up." She hesitates. There's more to that, more that Amanda's not saying. But whatever it is, Amanda shakes her head slightly, clearly thinking otherwise. "I fucked _this_ up."

"Amanda—" Olivia begins, aware that the next words out of her mouth have the potential to break the fragile detective. Aware that they _both_ have crossed the line. "Amanda," she tries again, "there is no _us_. We had a deal."

"I know," Amanda's voice wavers. Olivia watches the younger woman gnaw on her lower lip. "It's just that when Lewis took you, when that gun went off, all I could think about was that I never got a chance to say goodbye."

The silence is deafening.

Olivia looks away, resting her chin on the backs of her fingers, torn between what she wants and what she _needs_ to say. The silence in the room is a thick blanket that lays heavily on the women.

She should have never agreed to this. She should never have allowed it to go this far. She should have known Amanda would develop feelings.

Should have known she'd develop feelings _for_ Amanda.

Someone has to put a stop to this. For both their sakes. Before both their lives, their careers, are destroyed.

"Amanda, this is not going to happen. I'm sorry. But whatever it is you think we had, it's over."

Amanda's jaw clenches, the blonde looking away in an effort to mask the hurt behind her eyes.

Neither woman speaks for a long moment.

"I'm going to go," Amanda speaks abruptly, pushing to her feet. Before Olivia can say anything the blonde flees out the door of her apartment.

* * *

The evening is hell, Olivia spending the majority of it tossing and turning. Twice, she almost gets dressed to head over to Amanda's. Twice, she manages to stop, berating herself for allowing herself to become _attached_.

Attached. She won't allow herself to think that it's anything else. She's a sergeant and Amanda her subordinate and taking things any further would be such a clear violation of protocol, and it could cost the both of them their jobs. They've already broken so many rules that Olivia had quit keeping track long ago. IAB would have a field day.

But then she remembers the look on Amanda's face when she comes, the way her skin flushes, panting, out of breath. Remembers how it feels when those strong thighs wrap around her waist. Remembers the sweet taste of Amanda's arousal against her tongue.

God, what has she gotten herself into?

The next day is one of those rare days when both she and Rollins have off, and Olivia finds herself fighting her own natural urges. Thinking about Lewis, and of missed opportunities and regrets.

The way Amanda made her feel in the aftermath of Lewis. Like she was still beautiful. Still desirable.

Still _wanted_.

After a fruitless morning where she gets absolutely nothing done, Olivia finds herself standing at Amanda's doorway around two p.m., hand raised as she's seriously debating whether or not to knock.

She knocks.

And she waits.

The floorboards inside are creaking, so Olivia knows Amanda is home. A few seconds later, Amanda opens the door in a pair of black running shorts and dark green t-shirt, hair pulled back into a messy bun with several rogue strands falling haphazardly across her face.

"Liv?" Those wary blue eyes regard her pensively, the blonde stepping back as Olivia strides forward, the brunette closing and locking the door behind her, resting her forehead against the center of the wooden frame, taking a second to center herself.

"Li..." the rest of the question is garbled when Olivia spins around, pinning Amanda against the wall of her entryway, lips hungrily devouring the blonde's.

For a split second, Amanda is frozen, her lips locked into wordless surprise at the sudden reversal. Then, releasing a throaty moan of approval, she wraps her arms around Olivia's neck, the hardened peaks of her nipples pressing against Olivia's chest as she reciprocates.

Olivia groans, realizing Amanda isn't wearing a bra underneath that t-shirt.

Olivia's head drops down, her temple resting against Amanda's, both women breathing heavily.

"This doesn't change anything." They still can't be together. She still can't give Amanda what she wants. Because when Murphy leaves their unit she's still Amanda's boss. Olivia presses a kiss to the side of Amanda's neck, tongue darting out to taste the sweet saltiness of her skin. Amanda hisses, her hips jutting forward involuntarily, her hands sliding down to grip the sleeves of Olivia's salmon-colored t-shirt before slipping up to tangle in her wavy tresses.

"Shut up and fuck me, _Benson_."

Groaning, Olivia reaches up, grabbing Amanda's wrists, turning the younger woman around and pulling her back flush against her chest. Her own nipples are hard, her skin flushed at the way her body hugs the younger woman's curves, aroused with the knowledge of what's to come. "Bedroom, now, _Rollins_."

Amanda gasps softly, her nipples straining against the fabric of her T-shirt, but she readily complies, marching through an apartment that is still mostly bare from her sister's burglary. A second-hand sofa, a small lamp, and a tiny television are all that occupy the main living area, and when they get to the bedroom the full-sized bed occupies the majority of the room, a tan duvet and cream-colored sheets that have seen better days rumpled and unmade. Crumpled clothes are piled high on a metal folding chair in the corner that looks like something Amanda absconded from the cafeteria at One Police Plaza.

Olivia guides Amanda to the edge of the bed, pressing her lips to the side of her neck, sliding her hand down the curve of her back and over the swell of her right ass cheek, squeezing the covered globe, drawing a groan from the younger detective. Skirting her hands along the hem of Amanda's T-shirt, Olivia trails her fingertips beneath, playing along the quivering stomach muscles as she touches the satiny skin.

"God, Liv..." Amanda's head lolls forward, gasping as Olivia tugs gently on the hardened peaks of her nipples, a warm tongue tracing along the back of the blonde's neck.

"Hush," Olivia presses a kiss along the back of her neck, tugging up sharply on the hem of Amanda's T-shirt, the blonde's arms sliding upwards with the t-shirt, the creamy skin exposed as Olivia tosses the shirt into the corner, her hands immediately cupping the blonde's breasts. Amanda's hands cover Olivia's larger ones as the brunette squeezes, wrenching a startled cry of pleasure from the blonde when Olivia palms the mounds, fingernails tracing circles around coral-colored nipples. At the same time she tongues the back of the younger woman's neck, mouth moving in synchronization with her hands.

Kissing the other woman between her shoulder blades, Olivia dips her fingers beneath the waist band of Amanda's shorts, teasing the soft curls dripping with the blonde's arousal, moaning when she realizes Amanda's foregone the underwear as well.

"Jesus, Amanda," Olivia feels a flood of moisture in her panties, tugging impatiently at Amanda's running shorts, the younger woman stepping out of her shorts and kicking the fabric aside. The brunette brushes her lips against Amanda's earlobe, giving it a playful nip before ordering, "On the bed. Get on your hands and knees."

Amanda inhales sharply, eyelids slamming shut, readily complying much to Olivia's delight, the brunette groaning at the sight of Amanda spread open and vulnerable. Olivia quickly disrobes, stripping off her shirt and bra, unbuttoning and kicking aside her jeans and panties.

Slowly, she crawls towards Amanda, kissing the spin of her tailbone, pressing another to the dip of her back, the hardened points of her own nipples dragging across Amanda's back. The ivory skin provides an absolutely delectable sensation against the mocha points, both women gasping when Olivia slip two fingers into Amanda's willing heat.

"Oh my god!" Amanda cries out, her ass driving back into Olivia's hips, her back arching into the thrust, Olivia's fingers pushing deep, dragging along the ribbed patch of flesh.

 _Fuck_.

Establishing a slow but steady rhythm, the brunette thrusts into Amanda, the new position allowing her to drive deeper than she's ever been inside the younger woman, before slowly withdrawing her fingers, hitting the younger woman's g-spot with every other thrust.

Amanda's pleasure-filled cries are filling the room, echoing throughout the otherwise silent apartment. Olivia's own excitement is building, rising alongside the woman beneath her, sweat-slicked skin gliding across sweat-slicked skin.

It's feels like it's been forever since they've been together like this, and the combination of sensations, the rocking of her body against Amanda's, the warm heat around her fingers, the headiness of the blonde's arousal is building pressure deep within the brunette's core, rapidly climbing to a peak.

Amanda shudders, her body clamping down around Olivia's fingers, crying out as she tumbles over the cliff; a second later, Olivia falls with a startled gasp, eyelid slamming shut as the waves of pleasure wash over her body.

The climax lasts forever.

Finally, she returns to earth, her forehead dropping to Amanda's shoulder, pressing a kiss against the velvety skin, nuzzling the juncture between her arm and torso, waiting for Amanda to come down. She finally withdraws her fingers, rolling onto her back, one arm resting onto her stomach, the other falling to her side.

A moment later, Amanda rolls onto her back next to Olivia, chest heaving, eyes blinking in a dazed awe. A long silence hangs over the women, both of them trying to wrap their minds around the ever-shifting dynamic between them.

"This doesn't change things." Olivia feels the need to reiterate this, even though she knows it's a lie. She's in so deep now, she's not sure she'll ever get out. "You're still in hot water."

"I know," Amanda rolls over onto her stomach, leaning over that exposed caramel skin, goosebumps rising on Olivia's flesh where Amanda's lips slide across her fluttering stomach muscles.

Olivia tenses, knowing she should stop this. She wants to stop this.

But she can't. No more than she can stop her own heartbeat.

Amanda plants open-mouthed kisses along her skin where her bra strap used to reside, the brunette propping herself up on her elbows. Her head arches back, groaning when Amanda's nips the sensitive flesh of her shoulder.

The blonde hooks her leg over Olivia's hips, strong inner thigh muscles bracing against her outer thighs. Olivia moans softly when Amanda trails kisses up her the curve of her lean neck.

"God, I'm missed this," Amanda murmurs softly between kisses, running her hands up and down Olivia's upper arms.

"Shut up and kiss me, Amanda." Olivia arches her chest into the blonde's, gasping when Amanda fingertips skim the sides of her breasts.

Amanda gladly obliges, capturing Olivia's lips in an impassioned kiss, exploring the willing warmth. Olivia gasps when Amanda tugs on her lower lip, drawing it between her teeth, nipping at the swollen flesh before soothing it with her tongue. Olivia slides her arms around Amanda's back, fingertips tracing along the curve of her spine, canting her head to the side and meeting her tongue thrust for thrust.

Amanda cups the underside of Olivia's breasts, flicking her thumbs across the rapidly hardening darker nipples, causing Olivia to gasp aloud at the pleasurable sensation.

"Jesus, Amanda," she can't help but cry out, whimpering as Amanda teases her nipples to excited peaks, pink lips capturing the brunette's earlobe.

"Lay down." Somehow, Amanda's taken charge, guiding her onto her back, kissing along her pulsating carotid, the tips of Amanda's nipples raking across her own, the hardened points trailing fire across her skin. Olivia releases a loud moan, crying out when Amanda nibbles along her collarbone, tongue trailing along her sternum.

"God, you taste amazing," Amanda murmurs, capturing one of Olivia's nipples between her lips, suckling at the sensitive flesh, the older woman arching with a cry. "So sweet." Amanda continues, nibbling across the valley between the brunette's breasts to the other nipple, capturing it between her teeth and tugging it lightly.

Olivia's nails dig into the naked flesh of Amanda's back, pushing her breast into the blonde's mouth, moisture flooding her core. "Please," she gasps, pleading. "Amanda."

Amanda smiles against her skin, resting her forehead against Olivia's breast, panting heavily. Her hands slide down the brunette's stomach, running over the tops of her thighs, nudging them apart.

Olivia cries out softly when Amanda kisses the soft flesh of her left inner thigh, inhaling deeply the scent of the brunette's arousal.

"Amanda!" Olivia's voice rises when Amanda pulls her near the edge of the bed, kissing the inner skin of each knee, nipping her way up the tender flesh. Suckling at the flesh of her right inner thigh, Amanda tongues her way up to Olivia's lower lips, starting at Olivia's entrance, slipping her tongue into the brunette.

"Fuck!" She has no idea what to do with her hands, but she has to do _something_ , so Olivia threads her fingers through Amanda's hair, gripping the strands tightly as Amanda drags her tongue up her slit.

Olivia Benson literally sees stars explode behind her closed eyelids.

She hates that she needs _this_ , but at this moment she's not sure how she can live without it.

"That's what I intend to do, _Sergeant_ ," Her thighs fall apart wider as Amanda begins to drink in earnest, tongue circling around an already engorged clit, thrusting back into her entrance, flicking against that sensitive bundle of nerves.

"Less talking, more fucking," Olivia gasps as Amanda focuses on that sensitive bud in earnest, lashing it quickly with her tongue, repeating the action, driving the brunette higher and higher towards the peak.

It doesn't take long for her to come crashing down.

Olivia is rendered speechless, bringing a closed fist to her mouth to keep from screaming, waves of pleasure rolling through her body like a tsunami.

Amanda is by her side, nursing her through the fall, peppering her skin with kisses, whispering reassurances into her lover's ear. "You are absolutely stunning, Liv."

She has never failed to say it when they have sex - ever since Lewis tried to destroy her. And Olivia has never grown tired of hearing it.

Amanda leans down, pressing a kiss on Olivia's sweat-soaked skin, her lighter hand contrasting against the olive flesh, slipping between Olivia's legs and sliding two fingers into her core, the moisture enabling her to slip easily inside the brunette.

Where before their actions might have been classified as rushed, hurried, the second time around Amanda takes her time, setting a leisurely pace that seems to defy all Olivia's distinctive attempts to rush it along.

Amanda draws Olivia into another kiss, earning a groan when the brunette tastes herself on the blonde's lips, feeling Amanda press down on her hips as she sets the pace, thrusting fully inside of her core, hooking her fingers on each slow withdrawal to rub against her g-spot with each calculated pull.

It's not long before she rises and falls again, pulling away from the kiss, resting her forehead against the blonde's, brown eyes locking onto blue as Amanda takes her through another orgasm. The emotion in the room is palpable, charged, something that both exhilarates and frightens Olivia more than she can articulate.

She _cannot_ fall in love with Amanda Rollins.

She cannot _let_ herself fall for Amanda.

Dragging her gaze away, staring at the ceiling, Olivia realizes that she may no longer have a choice in the matter. That this path she's on was etched in stone when she walked out of that bar with Amanda over two years ago.

Olivia slowly, so very slowly, returns to earth, feeling somewhat bereft when Amanda withdraws her fingers, sucking on the digits, pink lips wrapping around her fingers and removing all evidence of Olivia's pleasure.

The sight is almost, _almost_ , enough to make Olivia come a third time.

Olivia reaches up, taking Amanda's hand, tugging the younger woman close and kissing her leisurely, barely stifling another moan at the taste of her on the blonde's tongue.

As Amanda's fingers begin to once more drift towards her breast, Olivia forces herself to halt the younger woman's progress, even though she feels strangely empty in doing so.

"I'm ... going to go home Amanda." When did it become so difficult to say those words?

For the briefest of moments, Amanda's face falls, though it's quickly hidden behind a mask of neutrality. The blonde rolls over, carefully gathering her clothes indifferently.

"Of course... though if you're tired, Liv, you can crash here. I'll take the couch." Amanda isn't looking at her when she speaks, and Olivia can only imagine the disappointment that is hidden behind those crystal blue orbs. Olivia grabs her panties, tugging them over her hips, quickly doing the same with her jeans before grabbing her bra and pulling on her shirt.

"Thanks for the offer, Amanda," Olivia chances a look over at her colleague, who is studiously averting her gaze. The brunette tugs on her boots, first the right foot, then the left. She pushes to her feet, running a hand through the messy curls of her hair. It's going to be fun taking a cab this time of night, looking like sex and smelling like...

 _...her_.

"I'll see you tomorrow, Amanda. Have a good evening."

Olivia turns, preparing to make her exit when she hears Amanda call out, "Wait!" The blonde rises to her feet, blue eyes finally meeting Olivia's, threading her fingers through the brown curls, bringing their lips together one final time.

"Goodnight, Liv," she pulls away, reluctantly, Olivia forcing herself to take a step back, swallowing, nodding.

It seems they both guilty of ignoring their own rules.

And as Olivia leaves Amanda's apartment, she wonders if the rule book wasn't tossed long ago.

Or if there was ever a book at all.


End file.
